New Year, New Food Swap!

Well, hello again! It’s been a minute (or 2 years) since my last post – while general life stuff, a new job, and travel have all kept me busy, I’ve missed sharing my cooking adventures here!

I’m not sure how often (or if) I’ll get back to posting regularly here, but I do want to share an exciting new endeavor starting this month – the Windy City Food Swap & Social! I’ve written about the Chicago Food Swap before (and it still holds a special place in my heart for introducing me to the food community in Chicago), and now I’m starting an offshoot with two friends so we can share, eat, drink, and meet more food-loving people.

We plan to meet monthly(ish) at a local brewery to swap our homemade goodies, with plenty of time to hang out, have a drink, share recipes, and generally have a good time. The part I’m most excited about (and the part that I’ve always loved most) is building a new community around sharing food.

If you’re in the Chicago area, I hope you can join us! Check out our website, join the Facebook group, or follow us on Instagram.

Boozy Blackberry Kumquat Jam

It’s been…an embarrassingly long time since I posted an actual recipe here, but the jam I concocted the other night was absolutely too good not to share immediately.

I bought a flat of amazingly juicy blackberries at the market a few weeks ago, and the first thing I made with them (after I managed to stop eating them straight out of the basket) was blackberry liqueur (3 parts blackberries, 2 parts vodka, 1 part brandy). This may even surpass damson plum gin as my favorite infused booze.

A week or so later, I strained out the berries and tossed them with more fresh blackberries (3 pounds of fruit total) and a cup of sugar. Smashed up the berries a bit, tried not to eat it all right then with a spoon, tossed the bowl in the fridge for another day or two. And then last night, as I was getting ready to turn it into boozy blackberry jam, remembered a bag of whole candied kumquats in my cupboard. Lightbulb.

Blackberry and orange is a relatively common combination, but the slight bitterness of the kumquats (and their teeny tiny cuteness) turned out to be a perfect match with the juicy, rich blackberries. I can’t wait to use this on a cheese plate, or, frankly, just on a spoon.

Boozy Blackberry Kumquat Jam

Busy Summer and Exciting Changes to Come

Hi everyone–as  you’ve no doubt noticed, it’s been pretty quiet on the blog the past several months, though the quiet here belies the busy-ness of my life lately, between gardening, cookbook club-ing, paella-teaching, chef-camping–oh, and quitting my job to follow my passion.

Yep, in July I left my job in communications at Northwestern University, where I worked for 10 years, and next week will start a new job managing the community cooking school for Peterson Garden Project. This is about as close as it gets to a dream job–working with people who are as passionate as I am about teaching the value of good food and building relationships and community around a shared meal. It makes my soul happy.

And, with timing that seems fated, I spent last weekend immersed in the amazing-ness that is Chef Camp with the Spence Farm Foundation learning not just the how’s of sustainable farming and food production, but–more important to me–the why’s. I’m still somewhat overwhelmed and trying to process all that I learned in two very short (and very long) days from incredible teachers, including my fellow campers, but to say I’m inspired is putting it mildly.

I don’t think I would be at this point–feeling so full of purpose and having found a productive outlet for my passion–if I hadn’t started this blog four years ago. And I wouldn’t have kept at it without the support from you, for which all I can say is a most heartfelt thank you.

The blog isn’t going anywhere, though! I still have a summer’s-worth of stuff I want to share, but in the meantime here are a few of the highlights in pictures.

Cooking the Books – Green City Market Cookbook

A quick note for Chicago folks: paella class is back! July 26 (next Tuesday) at the Peterson Garden Project, sign up here. It was great fun last summer, I hope you can join me!

Of the many (many, many) things I love about not-winter, aka May through October, in Chicago, finally getting fresh produce and kitchen inspiration from the farmers market is just about at the top of my list, not far behind dinner on my porch, lunch on the beach, snacks in the park….basically anything food+outdoors.

That’s one of the reasons I was so excited to try the Green City Market Cookbook for June’s cookbook club meeting. I bought this book from one of Chicago’s most iconic farmers markets when it first came out, but honestly only made a dish or two before it fell off my radar and sat, sadly neglected, on my bookshelf. The other reason I was excited to pick this book? Perfect excuse for a field trip.

I could write a whole post just about Chicago-area farmer’s markets, but I’ll (attempt to) summarize my two favorites:

Green City Market has some of the best of everything Chicago has to offer when it comes to food, from the produce (obviously) and the food vendors (yes always to Nomad Pizza, Cookies and Carnitas, Co-op Hot Sauce, and Italian cider doughnuts, please) to the location smack in the middle of Lincoln Park.

It’s my favorite market to take out-of-town guests and show off the food of my adopted city, or to bring friends for some shopping and brunch. Oh, and I go to Green City Market for the cheese (Prairie Fruits Farms is my favorite).

That said, nearly every Saturday morning from spring through fall, I head north to the downtown Evanston farmer’s market to stock my fridge.

Not quite as picturesque as Green City, but it has everything I want: a favorite fruit stand (which I will forever be grateful to for introducing me to damson plums), a handful of go-to vegetable vendors (my 10-for-$1 zucchini/pepper/eggplant/cucumber guy in mid-summer, Theresa’s and Henry’s for some of the best vegetable plants–and best vegetables–anywhere); a honey guy, a favorite bread lady. amazing empanadas for when I need a shopping snack… It also feels less packed than the city market with fewer double-wide strollers and no dogs–and you can’t beat free parking.

So, a week before our dinner, a few of us got up bright and early for a trip to the Green City Market (and, a few weeks later, the Evanston market) for inspiration and…let’s call it “research.”

After wandering the market, picking up a few provisions, we all left sufficiently inspired (and stuffed). With the fifteen dishes that we made, we ended up with a nearly vegetarian (two dishes with fish and one killer brisket) feast:

May (and a little of June) in the Garden

Somehow summer always sneaks up on me. Between a flurry of “oh hey spring!” weekend fun and busy-ness and my day job, I looked at the calendar and suddenly it was almost mid-June.

But with a mostly rainy May, I lucked into a few perfect weekends (and some extra helping hands, aka my own master gardener) to get everything planted between my garden plot and pots on my porch. The plants certainly enjoyed all the rain, and I appreciated not having to babysit them while they were getting established.

I think this year is off to a pretty good start, don’t you? (May 11 vs June 5)

So far I planted from seeds:

• Beans–I’m trying two new-to-me yellow and green bush bean varieties this year. I want to make my dad’s three bean salad this summer!
• Peas–I’m excited to try these Dwarf Grey Sugar Snap Peas since they supposedly don’t require trellising.
• Radishes—French Breakfast (my most successful from-seed vegetable for the past three years), Early Scarlet Globe (new to me this year), Cincinnati Market, Plum Purple, and hoping I can get a watermelon radish to take this year!
• Cucumbers–I found a perfect recipe for cornichon pickles last year, and this year I want to attempt pickles from my own Parisian pickling cucumbers. They’ve sprouted, which is farther than I got with seeds last year. So far, so good!
• Carrots–With Parisian Market carrots, there’s obviously a French theme in my garden this year. But I’m excited to try these since they don’t need much depth, and they’re just so stinking cute.
• Nasturtium–I’ve never planted these before, but I like the idea of adding the flowers to salads and having a little color in my garden.

For seedlings, I planted:

• Broccoli–I love the swirls and spikes of Romanesco broccoli, so I figured I’d give it a shot in the garden. This is my first brassica-type plant, and while the bunnies took a nibble from some of the leaves, they don’t seem to have done too much damage.
• Celery–Celery is actually among the few things I will pick out of a dish, but some good marketing sold me on trying Pink Plume celery. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good sales pitch (which, incidentally, came down to “It doesn’t taste like regular celery!”).
• Peppers–Oh boy. I may be getting nearly as bad with peppers as I am with tomatoes. I’ve got:
  • Maule’s Red Hot–I loved these for drying and using as crushed red pepper last year.
  • Corno di Toro Rossi–A bigger sweet/hot pepper.
  • Mellow Star Shisito–Just for something different.
  • Chile Pulla–I can’t find anything about growing these fresh, but the dried version is common in cochinita pibil, a Yucatan version of pulled pork, which has become my new grilling obsession.
  • Fireball–I loved these last year and they produced like crazy, even in a pot on my porch. They’re like a sweeter version of a jalapeno, and I’m excited to try pickling some this year.
  • Espelette–I told you there was a French theme this year. I got some of this special dried chile powder in France last year and am excited to try growing the peppers themselves.
  • Padron–I think I planted one of these, but I honestly can’t remember. I hope I did, they’d be so fun to have with my next batch of paella.

And then there are the tomatoes. I…might have a bit of an over-buying problem that will turn into an over-eating problem come July/August/September. But, tomatoes! I somehow lost a bunch of the plant labels, so I’m not 100% sure what all I planted, I just know I have 11 (or is it 12?) kinds. To the best of my recollection:

• Cherry/grape tomatoes: Black cherry, Honeydew (yellow cherry), and an as-yet-to-be-determined variety of red cherry tomato
• Small/medium tomatoes
  • Japanese Black Trifele–I grew this last year and liked it enough to try it again.
  • Another small red tomato, another one that I forgot the variety.
• Slicing tomatoes
  • Pineapple–I only got a few of these last year, but they were so gorgeous and delicious that I wanted to try again (and be better about fertilizing them this time).
  • Wherokowhai–One of two dwarf tomatoes I’m trying out this year that are specifically bred to grow well in small spaces but produce full-sized tomatoes. So far they’re growing like crazy!!
  • Fred’s Tie Dyed Tomato–…And the other dwarf tomato.
  • Purple Cherokee–I traded sesame noodle salad for this beautiful homegrown tomato plant at the Chicago Food Swap!
  • Green Cherokee–I got this as a freebie from the Chicago Botanic Garden. How could I say no to a free tomato plant?!

As for herbs, I have: chives (I cut them back and took home two pounds of chive–and they grew 6 inches of new chives in five days), garlic chives, cilantro, lemon verbena, oregano, bay, parsley, basil, winter savory, nepitella, spearmint, tarragon, rosemary, and borage. And apparently some dill seed got into my garden, so I guess I’m growing dill, too. Maybe I’ll try some dill pickles (to give away–I am decidedly not a fan of dill).

Cooking the Books – Ina Garten’s Make It Ahead

Want to read more about Cooking the Books and my thoughts on Chicago’s food scene? Check out this interview I did with Third Coast Review!

Oh, Ina, if there was a way to live your life.

For April, we picked the Barefoot Contessa Make It Ahead cookbook. Let me say first that there’s a reason Ina’s built the reputation she has–her recipes work, and they are delicious. They may not test the bounds of kitchen creativity, but there’s definitely value in a recipe for perfectly cooked beef tenderloin or a not-watery vegetable lasagna, especially if you’re looking for a centerpiece dish for a party. If you have a house in the Hamptons, friends coming over to play bridge, and just stepped out to get a bouquet of freshly cut flowers from your best friend the florist, so much the better.

Jeffrey’s going to love this!

That said, I–we–definitely had some gripes with this book. First, the majority of the recipes seem to have been repurposed from other Barefoot Contessa cookbooks. This wouldn’t a big issue except these recipes were so obviously shoehorned into the “make ahead” concept and not always in a way that made sense.

The one I kept shaking my head at was her version of bouillabaisse. The recipe instructs you to make stock (which can be refrigerated up to a day, though the recipe isn’t exactly clear at which step your stock is done) and then, 30 minutes before serving, reheating the stock and adding all of the other ingredients. That’s just…making soup.

When I’m looking for a “make ahead” recipe, I want one that can be made completely a day or more ahead (or only needs a simple garnish or a component like rice or noodles) and is either as good or better the next day. This book has those kind of recipes–the noodle pudding she describes as “a mash-up of kugel and spanikopita,” which I could have eaten a pan of by myself, chicken pot pies, even the herb-roasted fish that you can assemble completely in single-serving packets a day in advance.

But the oddest recipes were ones like the roasted cauliflower snowflakes where the make ahead component is just cutting up a head of cauliflower, or the cream of wheat that has you combine milk, sugar, and maple syrup, refrigerate it, then reheat it when you’re ready to actually make cream of wheat. It’s not that these recipes don’t sound good–I adore roasted cauliflower and cream of wheat is one of my favorite winter Sunday breakfasts–they just seem forced into the make ahead concept.

Several of the recipes also bordered on too salty. This is a difficult critique since I think most people (including me) under-season their food, but there is nothing more frustrating than spending an hour on a recipe, filling a sink full of dishes, taking a bite of your creation…and needing to follow it with a glass of water. Just watch the salt in her recipes.

There are some great recipes, though, as long as you ignore that they’re supposed to be “make ahead.” And you’re not on a diet–more power to her, Ina does not cower in the face of butter, eggs, or cheese.

This is what we made:

April in the Garden

I’ve been spying on my garden through the fence for the past month or so, watching and waiting to spot the first green tops of my chives. Last weekend, the first really gorgeous, warm weekend of the year, Peterson Garden Project gardens opened for the season, and I was out cleaning my plot, buying seeds, and getting a few cool weather plants in the ground.

My chives are already about a foot tall and in need of a haircut. My oregano came back as well, along with a few radishes and a mess of dandelions. The dandelions and a bunch of other weeds got pulled, I added a little compost, planted some herb babies (cilantro, marjoram, and thyme), two Romanesco broccolis (a first for me), and got some seeds in the ground: carrots, radishes (French breakfast, Early Scarlet Globe, and Cincinnati Market), peas (a new-to-me variety that doesn’t need a trellis), and nasturtium.

This is my first year planting carrots, so I’m particularly excited about them. I got wee little fat ones called Paris market carrots that should be perfect since they don’t need much soil depth. Though as much as I appreciate the weather taking over watering duty since last Sunday, I think everything is sufficiently well-watered by this point and the rain can let up any day now…

Next weekend I’m looking forward to getting tomato plants and other warm weather (we can only hope) vegetables from the PGP plant sale (I’ll also be making something to sell at their bake sale, so if you’re in the area, stop by!). I don’t have much of a plan for the rest of my garden this year–basil of course, sorrel (I’m nixing lettuce and greens otherwise, but I fell in love with sorrel last year), a few beans, a pepper or two, tomatoes wherever I can, plus another attempt at cucumbers. I found an amazing recipe for cornichon pickles last year and would love to make a batch with my own cucumbers.

Who else is gardening this year and what are you planting?

Macerated Oranges

All credit due to Chicago (and possibly global warming?), we barely had anything that qualifies as winter this year. A few days below freezing, a couple inches of snow–I only had to chip ice off my car once! I’m certainly not complaining (though watch us get a freak snowstorm next week).

Even so, by this time of year I am desperate for any fruit that 1) is not an apple and 2) actually tastes like something. Convenient then that just about every conceivable type of citrus is at its peak just in time to get me through to spring.

This recipe for oranges sweetened with sugar and soaked in their own juice, which I discovered flipping through Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking last month, is not only my ideal (and necessary) dose of vitamin C come mid-winter, it’s my new go-to dessert for a dinner party.

I’ll be honest, most of the time when I have people over, dessert is at the bottom of my priority list. I can bake when I get a craving, but if I’m making dinner for friends, I’m focused on the main course. Finding a recipe that complements the rest of the menu, dealing with the intricacies of baking, and trying not to induce a food coma by the end of the meal? No thank you.

These oranges, on the other hand, are dead simple and the most refreshing end to an indulgent meal. While it looks particularly pretty when you can mix up different colors and flavors of citrus (I used blood oranges, Cara-Cara oranges, and honey tangerines), it’s just as delicious with good, juicy, standard Navel oranges. Serve it alone or alongside a few biscotti to soak up the juice (or over a thin slice of Marcella Hazan’s ciambella). Perfection.

Macerated Oranges

Cooking the Books – Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him…The people who give you their food give you their heart.”

I stumbled on that quote while I was trying to find a way to start this post, and I can’t think of a more perfect way to sum up everything about this cookbook club and basically my entire philosophy on sharing food. Need more really be said?

…Well, yes, because that’s what I do here. In three meetings, these dinners have become a highlight of my month, not just for the amazing food (though, obviously, yum), but for the people. February’s dinner included three new members, and all three were among the last of us left drinking, eating, and talking past midnight. You know you’ve found a special group when new people fit in so easily it feels like they’ve always been there.

It seems particularly fitting, then, that February’s cookbook was Italian, a culture that embodies “people who give you their food give you their heart,” and in which food and home and friends and family are deeply, inextricably intertwined.

I’m ashamed to admit that, while I read through Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan like a novel at least twice when I got it a few years ago, I’d only made a recipe or two (and the minestrone I did make wasn’t the revelation I hoped it would be). But this dinner was a perfect excuse to really dig into it–not solely for the recipes, but for Marcella’s approach to food.

Many of us expected a Julia Child-like friendliness and enthusiastic encouragement from the book, but Marcella’s opinionated style led to some fantastic (and hilarious) discussions throughout the whole month before we met, and again at dinner. There was at least a little angst (and a few foul words) directed towards the impossible-to-find salt-cured anchovies that Marcella insisted were essential. (Jarred anchovies were acceptable if you had no other options. Can only find anchovy paste in a tube or “bargain-priced” anchovies? Make another dish.)

Personally I loved Marcella’s confidence that there is a “right” or “best” way to choose an ingredient or make a dish or organize a meal (salad course always to be served between the main and dessert, please and thank you). Granted, the best version may be the one her grandmother made (like the ciambella cake), but she also won’t deny you options to discover your own best version (for the ciambella, for instance, she says anise and wine are welcome additions).

Interestingly, this book had both the most ambitious recipes (mushrooms, ham, and handmade fettuccine bundled inside a handmade pasta package–yes, that’s pasta-filled pasta), and the simplest (a salad of raw fennel, salt, pepper, and olive oil) of any book we’ve picked so far. Most of the group went for the more project-y recipes (gelato, homemade tortellini), which were as good as you’d imagine, but the simple ones (the macerated oranges or fennel salad) were perfect compliments to the more complex dishes.

The unexpected discovery from this cookbook was finding that my Italian grandmother (who turned 102 last month, incidentally; yes she is amazing) regularly made one of my favorite dishes of the evening, pizza rustica (a.k.a. pork and cheese pie, Abruzzi style), a pastry dough stuffed with cured meats, cheeses, and eggs. As soon as I started describing the dish to my dad, he said “Oh, my mom and aunt always used to make that for Easter. It’s in the family cookbook.” And so it was, under “Italian Easter Pie.” I’m planning to attempt my grandma’s version in a few weeks. And maybe her German chocolate cake while I’m at it.

So, well-armed with Negronis and plenty of wine, these are the recipes we made from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking:

Cooking the Books – The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook

The grande dame of home cooking Julia Child said, “People who love to eat are always the best people.” No surprise, they’re also the best people to start a cookbook club with.

I posted about the first cookbook club in November (Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table). After this month’s meeting–a 15-dish extravaganza from the pages of the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook–I think this is the best thing I’ve done in the nearly four years I’ve been writing this blog.

It’s all of what I love about dinner parties (great food, entertaining at home, not trying to split a check six ways or feeling rushed by a waiter trying to turn a table) and potlucks (trying lots of different dishes) without the not-so-great parts of each (paying for and cooking all the food yourself, that one person who always only brings a bag of Lay’s and a sleeve of Solo cups). Plus it’s a great reason to use the dozens of cookbooks I have overflowing my bookshelf.

The best part, though, is how quickly a group of strangers can become friends over a shared, homemade meal.

Here’s how it works so far:

• At each meeting, we pick a cookbook, date, and host for the next meeting. Many people in the group are willing to host to spread out the effort.
• Everyone who’s coming adds themselves to a Google doc along with:
  • the name of the recipe(s) they’re planning to make
  • if oven or stove space is needed for reheating/keeping a dish warm
  • food allergies or other restrictions
• We set a maximum of 15 for most meetings for the sake of space, conversation, and food (even with everyone only making a single recipe, we all go home with something for lunch the next day).
• As much as possible, we stick to the recipe as written.
• We meet, we eat, we drink (BYO, and the host usually has libations to share, too). We talk about the recipes we made, what worked and what didn’t, what other recipes we want to try (or have tried).

We picked the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook for January’s meeting. I’ve had this book since Deb did her booksigning in Chicago, but have only made a handful of recipes (though the red wine velvet cake and the carmelized onion and squash galette are two all-time favorites). To stay true to the spirit of the club, we decided recipes from her blog were off-limits; cookbook only!

February’s cookbook is the incomparable Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan. Want to play along at home? Pick a recipe, make it on February 20, and share what you made on Facebook! In Chicago and interested in joining the club? Send me an email!

When January’s meeting came around, these were the recipes at the table: